When Dreams Make Fools of Us All
by DragonsWillFly
Summary: Spiralling dreams cause Hermione to lose a sense on what is real and what is imaginary... or in the end are the dreams she having really dreams? Waking up with wounds that weren't there before certainly will cause her to question what is real or not.
1. Prologue

_**Author's note: **_This story came from a conversation my girlfriend and I were having one day; are dreams really just images, thoughts, or emotions that pass randomly through your mind while you sleep? Or are they actually an alternate universe that your soul goes to while this universe's body is resting? I know a few of you have probably had a dream or two that felt as if it were too real for comfort... I know I have. So it made me think how would everyone's favourite Gryffindor female (I take a bit of liberty with writing her in this just because I felt she was always a bit too above par to willing spend time with those two gits!) take to this kind of dilemma if it occurred in her own life.

Sleep had never felt so welcomed as Hermione lowers herself into the clean, warm sheets of the guest bed in Professor McGonagall's house.

The hours following the Battle of Hogwarts had been the most taxing in her opinion. Sure, the battle was brutal but the after affects of it all... Once the adrenaline wore off, that was when guilt reared its ugly head. Guilt- a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offence, crime, or wrong; whether real or imagined. She felt that, if it was any heavier she would have been literally crushed under the sheer weight of the thought. Talking to survivors while watching others cart out the dead did not help. What was worse, in her opinion, were the times she had to actually talk to family members of the deceased; she would have happily welcomed a killing curse. Her hatred of life was short lived and happiness was brought to the forefront as she saw a few Ministry officials had made their way over to her to take her away to see the newly appointed Minister. That happiness was fleeting, for the new Minister politely forced her to relive every detail of the battle, including the months prior. It was nearing midnight when Minerva came and took her away from the Minister. With a heartfelt smile, Hermione quickly followed her former professor out into the main hall of the Ministry and into one of the ever ready fireplaces of the floo network. The older woman never said a word the whole time.

When they found themselves in her sitting room, Minerva finally spoke. "Miss Granger, I am sorry I wasn't able to take you away from the Minister sooner. I was detained, as well, by Ministry officials; but as soon as I found out he was questioning you about the whole incident I had to take you away. You have been through too much as it is, and never had a chance to properly mourn your friends' deaths.

Harry and Ron... she remembered how they died shortly after Voldemort's own demise. Harry had died right after he killed Voldemort, not realising how exact the prophesy was. _'Neither shall live, while the other survives.'_ It didn't take a brilliant mind to realise that in the end they were both destined to die. Ron was killed by Dolohov when he tried to come to Lavender's aide, when Greyback had attacked her. There were a few more from the Order who had died as well during the battle- Molly Weasley was hit with a killing curse from Bellatrix Lestrange, before said Death-Eater Apparated from the main hall; from what was last heard she was still on the loose. Arthur Weasley had also died... not from a spell or anything, the pure exertion of that battle, as well as the loss of so many family members, fatigued him to the point of no return. Anyone else she could not recall, the rest of the battle had became a blur after a while.

As she lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, Hermione realised that she didn't feel the need to mourn her friends; they had brought all of this onto themselves. Sure if Voldemort had his way she would have been as good as dead, her being Muggle-born and all. But ultimately it was because of those two boys all her troubles had started... she never complained about their constant need for attention and when she had to drag them out of yet another fine mess they had brought upon themselves, she would show no sign of irritation. She had a job to do... Dumbledore made it clear that he wanted them protected at all costs, even if it did bore her to tears at times and exerted her patience to the limit. No one besides Dumbledore knew what she was really there for, everyone had assumed she had became best friends with the boys. Wrong! From their first year at Hogwarts until the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had been on a mission. The deceased Headmaster had informed her on everything that she needed to do- gain the boys trust, help them become better wizards, make sure they never got caught in their shenanigans, help them destroy the Horcruxes, and above all make sure Harry does not die before the time he is supposed to. She had been tired of the whole situation since second year but always put up with it because she knew it was the only way to protect her parents from danger. Voldemort wasn't the only person who had a problem with Muggles, Dumbledore assured her that if she did what was asked her mum and dad would be fine. Hermione guessed that Rita Skeeter didn't know how close she was to unraveling the mystery that was Dumbledore in that biography she had written after he had died.

Now that the danger was over, she had no one but herself to worry about and it suited her just fine. Hermione thinks to herself as she finally succumbs to the gentle pulls of sleep, _'I wonder what would have happened if I never accepted Dumbledore's request to watch over them? What would the outcome have been?' _

Having no answer, save for a yawn she half-heartedly tried to stifle, Hermione allows sleep to win out and closes her eyes and mind to the darkness behind her eyelids.


	2. Into the Rabbit Hole

Hermione was awakened by the sudden change of temperature in the room and a constant dripping sound coming from somewhere in the corner of the room. _'Just when I had finally got to sleep...' _She grumbles to herself as she opens her eyes to see where the sound was coming from and also to locate her blanket. She curses softly to herself when her eyes had finally unblurred and she was able to see that the fire in the fireplace had burned out. Hermione moves to get up out of the bed but notices she wasn't even laying down on a bed but that she is chained to the wall. Struggling against the manacles that kept her detained, Hermione manages to create enough noise to alert whoever else was nearby. A ray of light came through the door as it opened momentarily, almost blinding Hermione before it shut closed.

She began trying to wriggle free again when she heard a low chuckle from inside the room. "I don't think I would be doing that if I were you deary. The Dark Lord wants to keep you around as thanks for turning on your friends. You did him a favour today and if you know what is best for you; you would be a very grateful Mud-blood for his kindness." A familiar feminine voice spoke from the depths of the inky blackness.

"Voldemort died today... I don't know what you are talking about!"

A hiss follows Hermione's statement as well as several torches being lit, "You dare speak his name! You filthy little Mud-blood!" Hermione's eyes adjusted to find herself almost nose-to-nose with none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. "And furthermore what is this rubbish you speak of the Dark Lord being dead? He is alive and well, He is even thinking of ways to push His forces towards the mainland and take over all of Europe. Our friends in Transylvania absolutely love the idea of having the return of the Dark Arts being brought back into practise. They have sent a contingent of their most powerful to join us in our march across Europe. And... do you know who the Dark-Lord wants to help in the forefront of this battle?" The raven-haired woman smirks as she sees the fear in the younger brunette woman's eyes. "He wants you... and me to lead His first march against France. The ladies of Beauxbatons Academy for Witchcraft will never stand a chance against us... Technically, they are the only people who stand in our way to take over that country because everyone else is too frightened to deny the will of the Dark Lord."

Hermione shakes her head at the news that she is now receiving. None of it made any sense , Voldemort was dead and the Light had won out. Even if she didn't really care how things had went to begin with, this news was doing her head in. There were too many questions floating about in her mind but she dare not voice them to the manic Death-Eater in front of her, for fear that the woman's favoured spell would be the only answer to all of Hermione's questions. Looking back up towards Bellatrix, who never left her position in front of the younger witch, she decides she finally has an question to voice that would not, hopefully, get her tortured. "Why does the Dark Lord want me at the forefront of this battle? I am a Mud-blood, as you so rightly mentioned before, and also I am not part of his inner circle; so why was I chosen for this task?"

The older woman smirks while she listens to the young witch, "You obviously are confused my pet... maybe the engagement at Hogwarts left you a bit muddled." Bellatrix walks away from Hermione, flicking her wand causing the shackles which held the younger woman to the wall to open. The brunette gingerly rubs her wrists to get the circulation to flow back to her hands, while looking at the older witch questioningly. "The Dark-Lord has decided to forget about your blood status in lieu of the recent events that you helped bring about. You helped him defeat that damnable Potter boy as well as the whole Order. You even cast the shield that kept the killing curse, that Shacklebolt himself had cast towards the Dark-Lord, from harming Him. You, my dear, have the most powerful wizard imaginable in your debt. It is amazing how quickly you have came from being enemy to ally in His eyes. But..." Bellatrix turns towards Hermione, eyes flickering dangerously as the thought of her next phrase crosses her mind. "We have to see if your loyalties truly lie in Him, or if you were just trying to save your on Mud-blood arse. He may be indebted to you but He is not without His cautions, surely you- the brightest witch of her age- should understand His reasons. Now relax... I promise you that this will not hurt a bit. The Dark-Lord does not wish me to harm you... unless you resist, then I am told to do what I must to make you comply."

Hermione nods her head slowly, understanding that this was actually the best time to learn to be compliant, a trait she never really had learned while growing up. She sighed audibly and relaxed her mind to allow the raven-haired witch to use Legilimency on her; hoping against hope that there was no damning thought hidden somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind.

It was over quickly and Bellatrix must have been content with what she had found in the brunette's psyche, "Come... we have a meeting to attend." The raven-haired witch walks towards the door, only stopping when she realises she is not being followed. "I said come on! We mustn't keep the Dark-Lord waiting!" She pauses again as she assesses the state of the younger witch's clothing. "Ah... I see. We need to get you a fresh change in clothes if you are going to meet with the Dark-Lord... Those Muddy clothes just will not do in front of Him." Bellatrix waves her wand again, causing a black velvety robe to appear in front of Hermione. "There are more robes for you in your quarters upstairs... He wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible in your transition into our ranks. I however, was the one who pick out the clothing for you." Bellatrix winks at Hermione then turns her back to allow the younger woman to change in privacy. "Once the meeting is over I will show you to your rooms."

"If I have rooms ready for me upstairs, why did I wake up in the dungeons? And where are we if I might ask?" Hermione questions the older witch as she changes out of her torn, muddy muggle clothing and into the soft, warm robes.

"Well we had to make sure we took all necessary precautions before we allowed you to roam freely. And as for where are current location is... we are in Black Manor. Also, if you must know we will be travelling to my sister, Narcissa's, estate. Before you even ask... yes you will be living here with me because I personally asked to take you under my wing."

"Why?" Hermione asks, without realising that she asked and knowing it was to late to retract her question.

Bellatrix never turned around to answer the younger witch's question, instead she leaves out the dungeon, and waits for Hermione to finish getting ready. Hermione takes that as a clear sign that the older witch no longer wanted to discuss things, sighing with relief, for she was fearful at what Bellatrix's answer might have been, Hermione finishes getting ready for the conference.

Walking out the door of her temporary prison, Hermione walks towards the raven-haired witch that was staring at a painting hanging on the wall. "That's my aunt..." Bellatrix says as she senses the younger witch walk towards her, but never takes her eyes off the painting. "She was bit of a character... you knew her son of course. Sirius always seemed to make her so mad that you could hear her screeching at the top of her lungs at him even if you were miles away. She hated that he spent time with that blood-traitor, James, and that half-breed, Remus." She pauses as she ponders something that crosses her mind. "Huh... I wonder what she would say about me now?"She turns and genuinely smiles at Hermione for the first time since Hermione had woke up. "Follow me, Granger... the Dark-Lord would not want us to be late."

Hermione takes in the portraits along the wall, musing on the reason why she didn't see any pictures of Bellatrix's husband amongst the collage paintings that covered the long corridor they were traversing. "It was a marriage of convenience." The older witch says as she continues walking towards the main vestibule of Black Manor.

"Excuse me?" Hermione says slightly stunned by what the witch in front of her said, forgetting momentarily that the older woman excelled in Legilimency.

"You were wondering why there are no pictures of Rudolphus on the walls, so I am telling you the reason why." Bellatrix replies nonchalantly as she opens up the main door leading to the grounds outside. "He had a fixation for his brother... while I fancy more curvier younger bodies to curb my longings and to keep me warm at night." Bellatrix tosses the younger witch a suggestive wink before she walks out into the night air.

Hermione blushes profusely at the flirtations of the older witch. Shaking her head to quell the heat that had risen, she tries to deal with the inner turmoil that also had risen from the affectuous way the older woman had spoken. It wasn't the fact that it was a woman that spoke to her that way that caused her heart and her head to clash, it was the woman who said it.

The same woman who had tormented her for answers at the Malfoy Manor- the same estate they were about to Apparate to. Ever since that night Hermione had been taunted in her dreams by this woman but now... now she is following her back to the place of her torture and willingly. But even worse still is the fact that she is not as apprehensive as she was when she first woke up in the dank cell. Sure, the thought of meeting the most evil wizard of their time was causing her heart to skip a few beats in trepidation, but standing a few feet behind her tormentor from the past had somewhat of a calming effect on her which caused the rational part of her brain to go into overload and scream at her that this was all wrong.

But she needed to find out why things ended so differently than she remembered; and the only way, was to follow Bellatrix.


	3. The Mark of Slytherin

**A/N: I would first like to thank everyone who have reviewed and alerted this story... THANK YOU! It has taken a bit more time than I thought to write this chapter, I had it outlined out since yesterday but today was the day I was able to get it fleshed out. I know a few of you who have reviewed also follow my other story 'Hermione Granger and the Half-Breed Sorceress,' I am letting you know that I have not forgotten that story... it is just on the back-burner because this story kind of slapped me in the face and said, "Write me!" Once again I would just like to say thank you all for your kind words!**

The wind outside whipped through her hair as Hermione continued to follow Belllatrix towards a remote hilltop behind Black Manor. Steeling herself for what was to come at Malfoy Manor, the younger witch stops beside the raven-haired woman, who had stopped walking once she had reached the summit, and stares into the darkened sky. "This is it..." Bellatrix says as she looks over at Hermione, knocking the younger woman out of her thoughts. "Let's go... we mustn't be late for the meeting." She grabs Hermione's hand and turns on the spot.

Once the feeling of being pulled inside out subsided, Hermione gazes up at the wrought iron gates of Malfoy Manor. Shivering at memories past, she tries to compose herself to keep from breaking down. Bellatrix looks over to the younger witch at her side, noticing the apprehension in her eyes. Feeling guilty that she had caused the woman so much pain, but was afraid to show how she felt, Bellatrix clears her throat and gives a insouciant response to Hermione's apparent dread, cringing inwardly on how it sounded once it hit her own ears. "Come on now, Granger... are you going to break down everytime you see my sister's estate? We have to be inside in fifteen minutes, the Dark-Lord is probably wondering why we aren't there already because I am always early to the meetings." The raven-haired witch stalks past Hermione and raises her wand allowing the gates to dissolve

Hermione felt numb to the older woman's words, the pain of remembering what had happened caused the bullied response to fall on deaf ears. _'If they were going to do all of this just to kill me, they would have already had her do it at her estate.'_ Hermione thought to herself as she unenthusiastically follows the older witch through the gate. Once they entered the property, the gates reappeared sealing the younger witch inside until a Death-Eater allowed her out. Shuddering inwardly at that idea but not letting it outwardly affect her, the younger witch walked up the steps of the mansion awaiting to be let inside.

The wait wasn't long, for within mere seconds of standing in front of the door it opened upon itself and the two witches walked in. No one was in the foyer as they entered, so Hermione took a small chance to scope out the view in front of her. Nothing had changed since the last time she had entered these halls. The torches spaced out too thinly provided a glow that perpetuated a sinister nature was manifesting within the very edifice. Feeling her skin crawl with disgust at her own timidity- though rightfully placed- Hermione squares her shoulders and lifts her head high; her main thought was that if she was being led into a trap she would go down fighting.

Following Bellatrix as she turned left onto a hallway off of the main corridor, the brunette realised that they were heading into an area of the estate that she had never noticed before. Granted she didn't see much of the house when she was there, it still struck her as odd to see a part of the house that was even darker than the area she had left from. Hermione was reaching for her wand so she could cast a spell to lighten the corridor, when Bellatrix stops short in front of a large wooden door on their right. "Ah... here we are and there is still time before it starts." The raven-haired witch states as she pushes on the door .

The door pushes noiselessly inward, causing a orange glow to be cast on the two witches. Peering into the room, Hermione sees a long banquet-table with chairs on either side, all of them occupied save for the two closest to the head of the table nearest the fireplace.

"Ah finally... are guest of honour has arrived! Come! Take a seat." Voldemort addresses the two women while gesturing towards the seats closest to Him. "I had feared that you were not going to accept our invitation, Miss Granger. I know Bellatrix has probably told you some of what is to occur tonight, which is expected of her to do so, but I wanted to save the best for when you arrived." He stops speaking to allow the women to sit down, Bellatrix takes the one furtherest away causing Hermione to sit right next to the Dark-Lord, Himself. Once the witches were seated the wizard contiues. "I wanted to extend my gratitude to you, personally. There are not many people that can say that I am in their debt. So as thanks for your heroic deeds, I would like to make you a part of my inner circle. I feel that you will be a welcomed addition to our ranks." Voldemort smiles towards Hermione, making her stomach flip at the grotesque sight of his cheerful demeanour. It's not that she wasn't elated to finally hear praise for a job well done, it was just that his snake-like features really couldn't play mirthful off too well.

"Thank you, My Lord... I will do my best to live up to your expectations of me." She says. Somewhere inside her mind, a tiny part of her was stunned to know that she meant what she had said, wholeheartedly, which caused the rest of her to go into shock about that.

It was all fleeting, for once her acceptance left her lips, Dolohov snarled. "Dark-Lord... I do not understand. How could you allow a filthy Mud-blood into our ranks? And what makes it even more deplorable, is the fact that she is the only surviving member of the Order of the Phoenix!" Hatred oozes out of every syllable.

The Dark-Lord opens his mouth to protest or most likely strike Dolohov dead, when Hermione bites back with her own disgust. "I was no more a part of their half-arsed schemes than you were! They threatened me to help them! Dumbledore, himself, said that if I didn't help them, my family would die! He said, he would send Aurors to finish them. So, I did what I had to do to protect them! I befriended those prats because of that conniving old man! I could have cared less if they lived or died as long as my family was safe!" Underneath the table Hermione could feel Bellatrix's hand grab her wrist softly, silently pleading her to remain calm.

"You see Dolohov..." Voldemort intervenes, befores Hermione decided to curse the man he already deemed dead before the sun rose the next morning. "Not everyone joins the Order because they feel that it is their right to. Now, Miss Granger." The man turns his attention to the younger woman beside him. "I know your story, but would you care to regale the rest of our group with your exploits before the Battle? You need not go into detail, for the details would go over majority of the rest of our companions' heads." He turns his gaze towards Dolohov, Yaxley, Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione smirks as she looks in the direction he is referring to. "I would be delighted, My Lord." Her trepidation at the beginning of her journey has since passed. "During the summer, before the start of my First Year, Dumbledore was the one to visit my home. He told me of my admittance into Hogwarts. Discussing the basics of classes while my parents were in the room, everything was going smoothly and I was extremely happy about how my life was turning out. But suddenly he asked my mother and father to leave the room so he could determine what house to place me in. I knew something was amiss but I didn't protest when I saw the menacing look in his eyes when he had returned his gaze to me. I watched as my parents stood up without protest, I suppose he had placed them under a spell, and headed for the kitchen; leaving me in the parlour with a stranger." Hermione looks towards Voldemort, waiting for approval to continue. The Dark-Lord nods his head in consent, so she resumes. "Once the room was devoid of my parents, Dumbledore spoke. _'Miss Granger.' _His voice was like the edge of a sword, sharp and full of malice. _'I can tell that you would be placed in Ravenclaw as soon as the Sorting Hat is set on your head, but that is not where you will tell it to place you. I want you to tell it to put you in Gryffindor, for I have a proposition for you if you ever want to make sure your parents are kept just the way you leave them.' _After his threat, the old man's voice changed to one that seemed nonchalant, _'There is a boy by the name of Harry Potter, that I want you to keep an eye on throughout his time within Hogwarts..._" Hermione pauses when the memories of that day in question rush to the forefront of her mind.

She was only eleven and here was this man several decades older than her, not even a relative, dictating to her what is expected of her otherwise her parents would die. She was to befriend the boy and whoever he had become friends with, teach him all that she knew, and eventually follow him to hell and back. There were many times she had voiced her opinion to the Headmaster about the situation he had put her in. She was tired of treading after two boys who seemed very willing to have themselves get killed than to abide by the rules. But to her dismay, her persuasions fell on deaf ears, the only way she knew she was heard was the constant reminders that his declaration of murder was still very much alive. Allowing this thought process to run rampant through her mind like a high-speed train with no brakes, Hermione felt herself grow absolutely rabid with rage. She was only able to be brought back to the present when a feminine voice beside her spoke, "I can't believe that old codger would do such a thing as that, the way they always talk about him paints him as the regular do-gooder."

"Yeah... well you should have heard how would talk about Potter. I'll jump forward to last year with the Horcruxes. The Headmaster called me to his office to discuss what objects the Horcruxes were and where they were located. When he got to the part about Harry being the last Horcrux to destroy, Dumbledore acted like it was his favourite part of the scheme. I asked him why he had me pretend to be his friend if he was to die anyway, and if that was the case why not let him be killed his first year when he went after the Philosopher Stone. Because quite frankly the gits would have died if I didn't tell them how to get out of the Devils' Snare. He simply told me that people needed to see him try to avenge his parents' deaths, so to give them hope for humanity. I almost laughed when I heard him say that, but I kept silent and agreed to the assignment. But when it came down to searching for the Horcruxes, I gave the boys wrong information because the old git had died." Hermione pauses and turns her attention towards where Draco Malfoy was seated. "I believe I have you to thank for his demise, Draco."

The blonde man nods his head in acceptance of her gratitude. "It was my pleasure actually... After attending a few detentions, where he tried to molest me, I felt it was my responsibility to rid the earth of that foul old man."

"I understand why you would feel obliged to destroy him, I just wish I was there to see the light go out of his eyes." Hermione smirks when she sees the stunned faces on some of the Death-Eaters, around the table, at her remark. "But, I believe I was talking about Horcruxes... Well, I sent them on a chase for majority of the objects. Some of the things that they believed were Horcruxes were merely cursed artefacts that took on the persona of the Dark-Lord because that is who they feared the most. And as for as Nagini," The brunette stares at the giant snake that had draped itself around Voldemort's shoulders. "I couldn't let them find out about her at all. Potter didn't even know that he was one until the very end, but then it was too late for him." The brunette settles back into her chair, finished with her tale and quite shocked to find that she had memories of this as well as a set of memories of her helping the dynamic duo destroy all the Horcruxes, including the snake that was less than two feet away from her. If it truly troubled her though, she did not reveal it to anyone even herself.

A quiet hum of whispering was heard around the table as the inner circle discussed their new findings. It wasn't until Voldemort cleared his throat, that the murmurings died down. Once he had the attention of everyone in the room, he spoke. "So as you can see... Miss Granger was a victim of circumstance and when the time was upon her she acted the way she felt she should, once the threat of of her families' danger was out of the way. Also, she left out the fact that she was the one giving us information on how to infiltrate the Order. Why did you leave that out, I wonder?"

"I felt that piece of information would have went over some of their heads." Hermione leers in the direction of an embarrassed Dolohov.

The Dark-Lord laughs at her remark, "That is quite true my child... well seeing as no one else would ever reject your findings for I vouche for you on everything you have done. I believe the true reason for our meeting should begin. Does anyone in this room contest Hermione Granger's entrance into the Death-Eaters?" Voldemort eyes everyone at the table challengingly, daring anyone to speak against his own wishes. When no one made a move, he smirked. "Well it seems the majority has won... now Miss Granger give me your left arm."

The young witch pulls the sleeve of her robe up, baring the white skin of the inside of her arm to the Dark-Lord. Voldemort reached for her wrist, while placing his wand to her skin, and silently speaks an incantation. At first she felt a tingling sensation followed by an agonising burning pain, Hermione did not cry out though inside her head, she was screaming.


	4. The Awakening

_**A/N: I was seriously going to post this yesterday, but was out of town seeing my lovely little nephews! While writing this I felt myself becoming just as confused as Hermione is, but in the end I feel as though my Muse's whims acted accordingly!  
**_

Hermione feels someone shaking her by her shoulders and hears someone calling her name, but the sounds and senses seem distant, like they were coming from the wrong end of a tunnel. She wondered fleetingly why her body felt as if it were underwater, when suddenly the muddled voice became razor sharp within her ears and she opens her eyes, nearly blinded by the harsh light that invaded the room. "What in bloody hell is going on here? Why did you have to shake me like that?" Hermione spits at her unknown assailant.

When the voice spoke again she realised it was Minerva McGonagall, "Hermione are you okay, I had to wake you... You were screaming while you slept and besides you have been sleeping on and off for the past two days." Her ex-head of house replied with concern in her voice. "I didn't wake you for I thought it would be best for you to rest after all that you endured."

"Where am I?" Hermione asks, forgetting that she was at McGonagall's estate in Scotland.

"I took you to my place after the Minister had interrogated you... don't you remember, Hermione?"

The younger witch's mind was muddled, thoughts of being in Malfoy Manor lingered in her psyche. "No... Well vaguely, but the last thing I remember was meeting with the Dark-Lord and receiving the mark." Hermione clamps her hand over her mouth after she had spoke, while the older witch eyed her curiously. Slowly taking her hand from her mouth, the brunette lowers it to her left arm and gently rolls up her sleeve. Gazing timidly at her own skin, she sees the scars she had received at the Malfoy's the night of her torture; plus, a thick ugly white patch marring the _'blood'_ part of the word _'Mudblood'_.

"What is that?" Minerva moves her hand towards the white scar. "You didn't have that before."

Hermione swiftly removes her arm out of her ex-professor's reach. "It's nothing... I must have received it the other night during the battle." She feels herself slightly shaken at the thought of not realising where she was. _'I remember how I got here but it is fuzzy... yet, I remember what happened before Minerva was shaking me very vividly.' _Hermoine quietly shakes herself out of her own musings. "Can I have time to myself, Minerva? This past week has been nothing but a headache... I just need an hour to myself, to get cleaned up and a new change of clothes and I will meet you downstairs for tea."

The older witch eyes her carefully before consenting to the younger's request. "Alright... I understand. You still need more time to mourn your lost friends. Meet me in the den and we can talk about what is to be done next." Minerva walks out the room and closes the door.

Hermione stares at the door until she feels that her professor would not intrude upon her again and stares at the large white scar on her arm. Tracing the edges of the scar with the tip of her finger, she remembered the pain that she felt while receiving the Mark- _'But why isn't the Death Mark there? I remember Dolohov acting like a total prat and I know that the Dark-Lord will punish him severely for speaking out against Him. But why am I here? How did I come here? I remember Bellatrix said the Order had fallen, but did Minerva survive? If so how did she take me away from the Manor without a fight? I feel like I had started out here but it feels like a distant memory after last night's events. And for Minerva to say that I was out for two whole days when I know that I was at the Malfoy's just makes no since to me. I think I remember something about being here I mean I definitely remember that I have two separate memories of what occurred at the final Battle at Hogwarts but I don't know why... and I don't know what is real or not." _Hermione struggles with her own inner thoughts while she walks around the room looking for her clothes. Realising there is nothing she could do short of casting a memory charm on herself to keep her from thinking about her situation, she trudges down the stairs to the parlour. Thinking maybe if she discussed what she feels with Minerva then possibly the other witch could help her with what is going on.

The coffee table was set with for an afternoon tea and Hermione's ex-professor was sitting on the sofa waiting for the younger witch to come down and join her. "I was hoping you would arrive down here before the tea got cold." Minerva said with a smile when she saw the young woman, but the smile faded from her face when she saw the confusion on the brunette's face. "Hermione are you alright? You seem a bit lost in your thoughts."

Hermione looks at the older woman, "Yes... you could say I am a bit lost." She sits down on an armchair on the opposite side of the table with a sigh. "I want to say first off... those boys were not my friends."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said before that I probably still needed time to mourn my friends... but they were never my friends." Hermione begins to tell Minerva about what Dumbledore had done when she first found out she was a witch all the way to when Voldemort was defeated, giving only the description of what occurred in the memories that Minerva would understand.

The older witch stares at her incredulously after the story was completed. "Why didn't you ever tell me what had happened? You know I would never have stood for any of this! I would have cursed the man myself if I had known what he did."

Hermione smiles at Minerva's words, but shakes her head to gain back the attention of the older woman to let her know she wasn't finished. "That is not all Minerva... I know this will sound weird when I tell you this, it sounds just as ludicrous to me as well. But, I need to tell it to you because I feel you may be able to help me figure out why I have this other set of memories about what had happened and why I seemed so muddled when I awoke this morning." The brunette spoke of everything that had happened at Malfoy Manor and what she had told the Death-Eaters about the way things had happened. Hermione thought Minerva was going to drop dead with shock when she told her that it was the Dark-Lord himself that had been the one that wanted her within the inner circle.

Once she was finished, Hermione stares at the older witch waiting for her to speak. " I honestly don't know what to tell you Hermione... except that it was a very vivid dream you had. That can be the only thing I can tell you, for Voldemort is dead. There is no way you spoke to him last night except for in a dream."

Hermione stares at her former Transfiguration teacher, "I wouldn't speak his name if I were you Minerva..." the younger witch's voice was cold as ice. "He doesn't like when others speak his name. And if it were all a dream like you said then why do I have a huge white scar in the shape of the Dark Mark on my forearm?" She lifts her sleeve again, tracing the edges of the scar showing McGonagall what the shape of it was. "You speak of things as if you believe you have all the answers. Hell... I even believed you could help me with what is going on. Even now as I speak with you, this scar burns slightly and has become clearer to see from what it had been when you woke me up." Hermione stands up, still staring menacingly at the older woman. "If you can't help me figure out what is going on here, I will find someone who can!" She storms out of the house, leaving a very confused Minerva in her wake.

Every step Hermione took away from the house, the more she could sense the burning of the scar. She stopped when it became almost as unbearable as the first time she received it. Almost as if she were under its spell, the brunette let her finger hover over it momentarily, before finally pressing down onto the very centre of the scar. A flare of pain ripped through her whole body causing her to drop to her knees and her eyes to flutter shut. Gasping out in anguish, Hermione pulls her hand away from the scar causing the infliction to ebb away. At the sudden absence of the torturous pain, her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she passed out unceremoniously into the high grass at the edge of the woods, two hundred yards from the professor's estate.


	5. Things Are Never What They Seem

**A/N: **_**I want to apologise for the delay in this chapter. I had it written out the old fashioned way; but alas, I was called upon the Normandy to do battle against the Reapers (I am a big Mass Effect fan!), but now I am back (though sad at the outcome of the game. I cried so much during it I thought I was going to never cry again!) and ready for the next chapter. I would like to thank everyone who has left reviews and alerted this story!**_

Her eyes flutter open as she feels someone place a soft touch on her forehead. "Ahh... you are waking up now." Bellatrix says as she moves her hand away from Hermione's forehead. "We took you back to Black Manor after your induction. The Dark-Lord felt as if you needed your rest especially for what is to come at the end of the week."

Hermione looks around the room, "Who helped you bring me here? I don't see anyone else. And what is to happen at the end of the week?"

The raven-haired witch laughs, "I'm impressed... not even awake for five minutes and you are already full of questions, ready for the next task. Well, it was Narcissa and Draco who helped me bring you back to the estate. They felt I may have needed the help, after what I did to Dolohov." Bellatrix stops Hermione from speaking before she could even open her mouth. "The Dark-Lord allowed me the honours of destroying Dolohov. I was so mad at how he had treated you and also what he had said under his breath after you received the Mark, I couldn't stand by and do nothing. So, I killed him with my bare hands. I thought killing him with magic would only be less than what he deserved after I had overheard him say that he still thought you only did it to save your own arse and the next time he could, he would get you away from everyone else and kill you. And I could not allow that to happen. Also... I want to apologise on how I had treated you... you know, calling you a 'Mudblood' and all when you first woke up in the dungeons. I had to be on guard just in case you weren't what we thought you were."

Hermione nods her head in understanding, "I thought that might have been the case, because you have not acted aggressively towards me since that time." The brunette looks about the room admiring the dark wood furniture that dominated the bedchamber. "I knew the Dark-Lord would have had Dolohov killed by someone or would have done it Himself, so why did you stop me from hexing his arse into oblivion? And there is another question I need to get off my chest because it has been waiting on the tip of my tongue since you had told me I was going to help you with the assault on France. Why did you want me to be your protégé?"

"Wow, you really know how to interrogate don't you?" Bellatrix smirks at her own joke towards the younger witch. "But, from my experience it is better to allow the person being interrogated to answer the questions before asking another one, but you have answered the last query you had from your first bombardment of inquiries. The assault on the ladies of Beauxbatons will begin at the end of the week. I think you know why I didn't allow you to hex Dolohov as well... what type of beginning would that have made for your entrance into the Death-Eaters? Sure I would have enjoyed it, but others would not have. You handled yourself well with your words and that was enough for the rest to support you if you had been strong enough to duel him after you were inducted into the inner circle. I wanted the others to know the reason why you did what you did was not because you were someone who wanted to save their own life, but I wanted them to hear what you had went through and how that caused you to make the choices you made because they needed to trust you and that helped them do just that. As for your last question... You intrigue me Granger." Bellatrix gets up from the chair she had been sitting in that was situated by the bed and paces the floor in front of the fireplace. "I read an interesting Muggle fable one time. It was about a woman who was married to this man, named Adam, and they lived in an enchanted forest. The woman must have been Salazar Slytherin's ancestor because she spoke to this snake who told her to eat from this tree that her husband told her was forbidden. But, she ate of it anyway and was cast out of the forest... Have you heard of that story?" Bellatrix stops her pacing, looks at Hermione, and smiles expectantly.

"Yes, I have. But, I don't understand... you tell me that I intrigue you and then you tell me the story of Adam and Eve."

Bellatrix huffs, slightly put out that her story went over the head of the brunette. "I thought they said you were the brightest witch of your age? Okay..." The raven-haired woman continues pacing the floor with more fervour, her trepidation to continue speaking was obvious. "The way I feel is like the story. My family in this instance is Adam, telling me what is expected of me and what I can not do or have. And my emotions are the snake. I am Eve, of course. And you..." She turns her back towards Hermione and stares into the flames of the fire. "You are the forbidden tree. That is why I asked the Dark-Lord if I could take you under my wing. That, and the fact that you are a very powerful witch for someone who just came of age last year." Hermione remains quiet for a few moments, causing Bellatrix to become hurt at the lack of response. "Now tha ti have embarrassed myself, I will let you rest." Bellatrix walks towards the door, causing Hermione to snap out of her reverie.

"Wait... Don't leave! I'm sorry. I just never had anyone tell me they fancied me before. It came as a shock. I must confess... I have always found you beautiful, but untouchable. I would have never have thought in my entire life that you would have felt the same."

Bellatrix smiles genuinely for the first time in her life, walking closer to the door. "I'm glad to hear that, but you need to rest now. I remember when I first received the Dark Mark, I was out for ten hours straight."

"I... I can't fall asleep!" Hermione states in an almost pleading voice.

The raven-haired witch stops in her tracks when she hears the fear in the younger woman's voice. "Why not?" She asks softly.

"Because... I'm afraid. I'm afraid that if I fall asleep I will go back." The brunette states almost inaudibly.

The older witch walks back to the bed-side and sits down in the chair she had sat in earlier. "What do you mean you're afraid you will go back? You're not making any sense, Hermione."

The younger witch sits silently on the bed, conflicted by whether or not she should tell Belltrix about what has been happening to her. _'Well, she did tell me about her feelings for me, so I should at least tell her the reasons why I am terrified to fall asleep. I just hope it doesn't change how she feels about me, because ever since I saw her raven hair and her porcelain skin that night in the Department of Mysteries; I had fallen for her.' _

"Hermione... as much as I enjoy reading your mind... can you just tell me what is going on? It will not alter my opinions of you at all, I promise." The older woman smiles as she sees the embarrassment flash across the younger one's face.

"Shit... I'm sorry." Hermione says, "It's just that I don't want you to think I am mental or something. But here it goes..." Hermione begins her tale with her two sets of memories from the search for the Horcruxes all the until the present time, as the older witch hangs on her every word. "So, do you still feel the same way or do I need not get my hopes up?"

"Hermione, don't talk like that." Bellatrix stands up from the chair and sits down beside the younger woman on the bed. "Something like this is not in your control, so I could never change my mind about how I feel about you because of something that you can not control. But... I believe you should tell the Dark-Lord exactly what you told me. There could be a possibility that Dumbledore did something to you that caused this to happen... a curse or something that reflects what you were... a double agent. I know for a fact though that what you have been going through is not part of the dream realm. If it were an alternate universe created by dreams I would know."

"How would you know? I mean my dreams are my own... you couldn't possibly know." Hermione starts picking at the bed sheet that laid across her lap.

Bellatrix sighs as she sees how much torment the situation is causing the brunette. She reaches over and places her hand over Hermione's, causing the younger woman to calm significantly. "I would know because all dreams are tied together. If I were in your dreams like you said I was I would remember that part of the dream that I was in. But, I have no other recollection of what happened at the Battle of Hogwarts other than you saving the Dark-Lord. So, there is more to it that just a dream that seems like reality. As soon as you are ready, I will call for the Dark-Lord to come and you can tell Him what you have told me and He will be able to help you determine what is going on."

Hermione looks at Bellatrix with unshed tears in her eyes, "You promise?"

The older witch gives Hermione's hand a reassuring squeeze, "I promise."


	6. Mr Sandman

_**A/N: Sorry for the bit of delay in this chapter... I won't lie, I had set this on the back-burner for a tad bit because I had a few other things come into my mind that needed to break through and be written. I want to thank everyone for their patience and kind reviews. I hope that now that those pesky one-shots are written out, I will be able to write on this story as well as my other one (Hermione Granger and the Half-Breed Sorceress.) **_

Bellatrix leads Hermione downstairs to the parlour before summoning the Dark-Lord, "Are you sure He will be able to help me?" Hermione asks unassured that she will never be free of the torment of living as she has for the past couple of days.

The raven-haired witch stops in her tracks, "Of course He will. If there is anything the Dark-Lord knows about... it is curses. I can understand your concern, but He is a very powerful wizard, Hermione. Even more powerful than that old git, Dumbledore." She turns to face the younger witch, reaching for her hands in the process. "I told you, I promise nothing will harm you and that everything will be alright... just trust me. Now, I want you to go and sit by the fire while I summon the Dark-Lord."

Hermione nods her head in agreement and walks towards the black leather armchair, willing herself to remain positive. It wasn't that she didn't trust the raven-haired woman, after her confession... how could she not? The prospect of finding out what was ailing her caused even the most steadfast convictions in her mind to dissipate, creating her new found happiness in this plain of existence to shift into trepidation. With her outer perception turned inward, the brunette never noticed the abrupt change in temperature until she heard the voice of Voldemort, Himself.

"So... what is the trouble Bellatrix? Why have you called me to your Manor at this hour? I trust nothing is wrong with the arrangement you, yourself, asked for?" He asks as He watches the younger witch, that was seated near the fireplace, jump at His words.

Bellatrix walks quickly towards Him, bowing slightly. "No, My Lord... we needed your expertise. I apologise for summoning you without so much as an inkling of notice. But, I fear that if the situation isn't rectified, it could cause dire ramifications to our goal."

This peaked the snake-like man's interest, "Ah... then I would like to hear what it is that needs to be called to my attention, if it effects our plans."

The raven-haired witch walks towards the brunette and places a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "Hermione has a problem... I believe it could possibly be a curse; but, I feel that you need to hear what she has told me, for You, My Lord, are a better judge than I."

"Miss Granger... is what Bellatrix said the truth?" Voldemort walks closer to the fireplace, where the young witch sat silently in the armchair. "I knew something was troubling you at the Malfoy's, but I knew it was not the time to speak of it... especially since I already knew you were hesitant to be there in the first place. But, since you are now alone with friends; maybe you will indulge me with your problems?"

Hermione glances up at the wizard, visibly swallowing hard, while trying to steady herself to retell the tale she had told Bellatrix. Once she gained the courage to speak, the words spewed forth like a dam breaking, including her fears that she was going mental. During the whole speech, Voldemort stood silently, His attention rapt with every word the young witch spoke.

Once Hermione was finished retelling what has transpired for the second time that day, Voldemort finally spoke. "Well Hermione, it seems our Bellatrix was accurate in her assumption, but I will not be for certain until I conduct a simple test."

"What kind of test?" The young brunette asks suddenly weary the day's events.

"Oh it is nothing to worry about my dear child..." He walks closer to the armchair the younger witch was sitting in and places a cold, pale hand on her forehead. Murmuring under his breath in a language that Hermione could not understand, the Dark-Lord stood unmoving for several minutes while Bellatrix paced back and forth in the background. Finally, He moved from in front of the younger woman and motioned for the raven-haired woman to come closer. "It is exactly what you had feared Bellatrix... Dumbledore cursed her. Fear not, Miss Granger..." He says when He noticed the downcast look in Hermione's eyes. "I can have this all sorted out in no time, but... I need you to make a choice. The curse he used on you causes a unique symptom, this world and the other you have described to me are both actually happening. When the old Headmaster died, he ensured that his torment would live on for you causing you to live two separate lives; which will slowly cause you to go insane. I am quite surprised that you did notice it before. Hermione, the effects of this kind of curse are instant."

"Well, there were times that I felt as if somethings were not right or that I remember doing something completely different than what I was told had happened, but I never really took a notice to it until after the Battle of Hogwarts. The time I have spent in both worlds has been so different from one another that I couldn't help but take notice this time. What do you mean I have to make a decision, My Lord? Can't you just get rid of the other world and everything will be fine?" Hermione instantly cringes at her last question, knowing that it sounded a bit harsh.

"Well yes I could but, I want you to be one hundred percent sure this is the world that you wish to have as the complete and utter truth, for if I do as you say now... there will be a part of you that would often wonder if you should have stayed in the other world and there is no way for you to gain entrance into the world that you do not pick. I will be back tomorrow at the same time and then you shall give me your answer. Consider this the true payback you deserve for sparing my life." The Dark-Lord smiles then disappears in a cloud of smoke.

Bellatrix walks towards the brunette after their master had left and lowers herself into a kneeling position in front of Hermione. "He is right you know..." She takes the younger witch's hands in her own. "You would have regreted whatever choice you made tonight if you did not put any thought into it."

"But I..."

"No Hermione, I do not want you to base your decision on the fact of what I told you before. I want this to come from your heart and your heart only. I would feel that if I were to give you even the smallest idea of what I thought you should do, that it would cause you to come to a conclusion that is not fully your own. Just know that in the end, whatever you decide... I will support you and will always care for you." Bellatrix stands up and places a gentle, chaste kiss on Hermione's forehead before walking out of the parlour; giving the brunette time to be by herself to make up her mind.


	7. The Choice is Yours

_**A/N: **__I know this chapter is a bit short, but I felt that even in its miniature state it still conveys what I hope to be a defining moment within Hermione's life. And as always, I wish to thank everyone who has reviewed and favourited this story. I had started it out as a simple whim, when I had reached another hurdle in my quest to finish writing my novel. And it has became fuel not only for my main piece that I want to publish, but it also has caused a few other fanfictions to burst forth. Anyways... on to the chapter!_

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Hermione sits rooted to the spot she had been in for the past couple of hours, the fire had dwindled down to embers. She was told to think of which life she wished to keep, the one where she was nothing more than a guard dog for the two idiotic boys that constantly found their way into trouble, or the one where she had felt that for once in her life, everything would work out for her. Of course, she was not dim. She knew exactly which one she should pick. But with what the Dark-Lord had said to her about how she would lose everything that the other life would have to offer, she decided that it would make better sense to go over everything she could recall about both sets of memories.

Everything had been the same right up until the night Dumbledore had died on the Astronomy Tower, that is when the two sets of memories started veering off course from one another to where she thought that maybe, she was just having a few strange dreams. The major shift between the two had to be the Final Battle at Hogwarts, but that felt too near to the present for Hermione to start with weighing out the pros and cons of each life. So she started with her earlier train of thought, the night the old git died.

The subtleties between the two perceptions started to grow more apparent the more she thought about it. One set of memories eluded to the fact that she was still paranoid of the fact that, even dead, Dumbledore had her trapped. So she had set about as if he were alive and helped the two troublesome boys on their quest of killing Voldemort. This fear was almost similar to a child's fear of the bogeyman, causing her to think if she sidestepped even a hair to the edge of thinking outside of the wishes of the dead Headmaster, he would pop out of nowhere and destroy her mum and dad and quite possibly her as well.

The other set showed more of her innate willpower to rebel against the one who had oppressed her, while he had lived. Throwing caution to the wind and allowing her own survival instincts to aide her in the right direction. They created for her a path that she knew would be the only path to victory and continuance. The way of the Dark-Lord. Every spell she had sent forth during the final hours had made her realise how much she had hated every single person from the Order, a group that the horrid man had created. With every hex and curse that had struck home in their intended location, Hermione had felt lighter and bolder than she had ever felt in her life. It gave her a chance of freedom- freedom that she thought she would never feel again, after seven long years of what felt like imprisonment. She never liked the fact that she was forced to do everything that she had because someone cruel sick old man had threatened her family's life. It made her feel that the choice she had received earlier was the most welcomed thing ever, and it shocked her more that it came from the supposed most evil wizard in the world.

Running her hand over her face as she looks at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, Hermione realised that she had been sitting in the same position for over three hours. Slowly standing to stretch out the kinks that had formed in the muscles in her back, she walks slowly around the parlour, taking in everything that she had missed the first time she had entered the room. The room was different than the other main rooms Hermione had seen within the walls of Black Manor, it seemed more elegant more natural- more like a home. The only other room she had seen that had gave her the same homely feeling was the bedroom in which Bellatrix had allowed her to stay in. Her lips turned up into a small smile when her thoughts stopped at the one major thing that had occurred within this realm that did not happen in the other... the thought of a declaration of want and desire being said to her. Her of all people had been told that she was found to be intriguing and needed. And it wasn't just by anyone, it was spoken by a woman that Hermione would have never dreamed would have need of anything. In the young witch's mind, Bellatrix Lestrange seemed to be a woman who had everything she could ever want. A mansion, power, and a reputation of one not to be fucked with. These were things that Hermione had secretly wished for herself and in turn of wanting things such as that it had caused her to want the raven-haired goddess. Ever since the battle at the Department of Mysteries, Hermione had longed to be with the most powerful female Death-Eater. The way she had took control of the situation almost caused the brunette to pass out from intense longing. But, along with the intense longing came a dread fear of the dark mistress. Memories of the intense pain she had went through during her interrogation had wrapped itself around her yearnings; almost snuffing them out like a woolen jumper against the cold. But, through it all, the feelings uncocooned themselves out of the shadows of her own doubts; creating a sudden sense of inner peace within herself, whenever she was around the dark-haired temptress.

Startling realisation invaded her mind and without a doubt or second guessing, Hermione knew what she wanted in her life and this time she would not allow anyone else to get in the way of her choice.


	8. Seal the Deal

_**A/N: It took some time to figure out how to play this chapter out... I mean I knew what I wanted to happen within it but it felt a bit awkward to have Bellatrix slightly out of character (But I did pull a little emotion out of her, more so than the other chapter I did for this story.) I hope you all enjoy! And thanks again for the reviews and alerts!**_

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The young brunette made her way out of the parlour to take a walk around the rest of the Manor that she did not get a chance to see when she was first there. She mused on the fact of what it would be like to live in such an estate. The large open foyer, that held portraits that depicted the great Roman empire, at its height. Then the winding hallways, which housed the pictures of members of the Black family. Hermione felt her nerves tighten while wandering aimlessly within the corridors, for the paintings would murmur something indecipherable once she passed.

Hermione hurried her steps whilst in one particular hallway, on the second floor, when she had heard the painting of Bellatrix's father, Cygnus, call out; _'Filthy Mudblood! How dare you step foot in my house! I hope my daughter sees you and kills you!'_

The young witch quickly escapes into an open door and gently closes the door behind her, trying quietly to catch her breath when she hears a noise further inside the room. Quickly sizing up the room, she realised she was in a chamber room. _'What is that noise?' _The brunette asks herself as she moves closer to the sound, not thinking of the consequences to be had if it were something in which would do her harm. Upon making it to the door of the bedroom, Hermione presses her ear to the closed door and finds that the noise she had heard was someone crying. Steeling herself for the unknown, Hermione quietly opens the door and peers into the bedroom. At once the witch found out who was doing the crying. Sitting on the side of the bed, was none other than the raven-haired goddess that was constantly on her mind.

Bellatrix had her head in her hands and was seeming to try and stifle a heart-wrenching sob, but failing miserably. Hermione stood like a statue as she tried to figure out why Bellatrix was in such a state. A woman she knew to never cry about anything. _'There is only one way to find out.' _The young woman thought as she moved silently from the door closer to the bed. "Why are you crying, Bella?"

The raven-haired witch sits up suddenly and unconsciously wipes her face, "I wasn't."

Hermione moves closer to the older woman and tentatively reaches for her face, gently wiping away a lone tear that Bellatrix had missed. "Care to answer my question again?"

"Alright! I was crying. But, I have a bloody good reason to be!"

Hermione moves her hands away from the older witch's face. "Why is that?"

Bellatrix sighs petulantly before answering, "I've found someone who I actually connected with, though we have only known each other fully for a small amount of time and now they are leaving me, probably. I know they have no reason to stay here not when their life could be better than what I could offer them."

"Who's leaving? I know I may be persuaded not to leave... given the proper motivation. But, if it is not me, then who is this person you have connected with so I can either hex them, for taking your affections from me, or I can convince them to reconsider their actions. Because if this person causes you so much torment at the thought of them leaving you, then they need to stay by your side no matter what." Hermione gives a slight smile, hoping that her words had sunk in to the mind of the woman sitting in front of her.

The raven-haired woman sniffles one last time and looks at the younger witch quizzically. "What do you mean proper motivation?"

The brunette laughs, "Oh, so it was me you were crying over?" Hermione sits down on the bed beside Bella, grabbing the older woman's hands as she did so. "Bella... listen to me. How could you possibly think I would choose that life over this one? I would have gave the Dark-Lord my answer tonight if he didn't tell me that he wanted to wait to hear my answer. Also, you had told me basically the same thing. That other life..." The witch sighed upon remembering everything that had occurred in her other set of memories. "It wasn't a life. I mean, yes, there will be a few things that I would miss from it... but nothing that would cause me to automatically pick it over this life. Thinking back on those memories made me realise that I was nothing more than a pawn... or better yet a guard dog for those arses that were thought to be the saviours of the wizarding world. Everything that I did for them was made to look as if it were their ideas all along. If it weren't for me they would have never did what they did. But with these memories, of this life..." Hermione smiles as the thought passes through her subconscious. "I was able to make my own choices. Granted, I had to wait for the old git to die before I could properly act on my own, but I was able to make those boys look the right fool. I could give them wrong information as to where the Horcruxes were hidden, and no one was the wiser. I was ecstatic when the final battle had started and I was able to finally give all those people within the Order of the Phoenix everything that had been coming to them. I felt like a new person, but I think I felt that way before... when I had met you in the Department of Mysteries. That day, had to be the day that I had felt the most alive. Never before, since finding out I had been accepted into Hogwarts, did I feel that my opinion could really matter. But of course _that man _was still alive so I couldn't join you willing then, no matter how much my mind, body, and soul wanted to. I knew I couldn't be selfish, my parents' lives were at stake."

Bellatrix felt as if a weight had been lifted off her chest at the sound of Hermione's reply, "You don't know how it makes me feel to hear you say that you have already decided to stay here... but, I have a wonder..." The older witch quirks her eyebrow as she stares intently into the younger witch's eyes. "What did you mean earlier by _proper _motivation?"

The brunette blushes profusely as she comes to terms that the older witch understood fully what she had meant and was only wanting her to say it out loud. Clearing her throat, Hermione regains her composure and finally speaks again. "Well I always thought it best, when it came to deciding very difficult problems in one's life, to find a way to 'seal the deal' and make the final deliberation complete."

Bellatrix licks her lips slowly and leans closer to the brunette, speaking seductively into her ear. "So... what did you have in mind?"

Hermione shudders at the closeness of the older witch, "Anything that you had in mind..." Suddenly and idea popped into the younger woman's head, causing her to smirk. "Because, after all, you are the one who needs to find a way to prompt me into staying here."

The raven-haired woman leans back to study the younger witch's face. Without the slightest warning, she crashes her lips into Hermione's and leans into the kiss until she is on top of the brunette. "Well be prepared..." Bella murmurs into Hermione's mouth, "I think I have found a reason that could incite you to stay. But, it will take me all night to justify my reason for you to stay."

Hermione bites back a moan, "Good... I feel that just any old explanation would not be nearly enough, only the best thought out reason can do."

"Bellatrix smirks as she moves her mouth to the brunette's neck, "Oh believe me... I have thought this reason down to the very last word."


	9. Any Regrets?

_**A/N: **As many of you might have seen, I have changed the rating on this story. When I had first came up with the idea of 'When Dreams Make Fools of Us All' I had everything planned out, but it would seem that my mind may have disagreed with me as the chapters progressed. So, without further ado... here is the hardest chapter for me to have written (I wanted things to flow perfectly for this chapter. Tell me what you think!)_

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Dawn broke to find Hermione lying awake beside the sleeping form of Bellatrix. Glancing over at her now lover's sleeping form, the brunette lets out a sigh of content. That night had been perfect for the younger woman, lips, hips, fingers, and tongues had worked and fit perfectly together to create a symphony of bliss that had left her feeling lighter than air. Sure, that wasn't the first time she had been intimate with another woman. Her Fourth year, which was the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, found Hermione as the prey for one especially predatory Half-Veela, Fleur Delacour. Even though the brunette enjoyed all the sexual encounters that had ensued while the fiery French witch was spending time at Hogwarts, it wasn't what the brunette had wanted.

Everything had been so imperfect with Fleur. When they kissed it just felt as if they were two young children learning how to kiss. And the sex, though amazing, could never quite quench Hermione's thirst for satisfaction, leaving her to fend for her own self after the other female had been satiated. The brunette always blamed it on the way their relationship was when sex was taken out of the equation. The French witch was just a topsy-turvy mess of emotions. One minute she was calm, cool, and collected; then the next she was baring her teeth at anyone who even looked upon Hermione. There were even times that the brunette was in the cross-hairs of the Veela's wrath. At those times, she was left wondering what it was that she had even done to deserve the out pour of venomous emotion from the blonde. The night before the final task, Hermione had decided to end the whirlwind emotional roller-coaster that had been her and Fleur's relationship. It had been a huge mistake on the brunette's part, the blonde simply did not know how to let go. There were many a time during her summer holiday that Hermione would find her room in complete disarray and more often than not, something was always missing. A shirt, a romance novel, and the strangest one- a quill that the brunette had often used to do her homework with. Finally, as if by some miracle the raids on her room stopped and it was only later that she found out that Fleur had finally met someone new.

Her life, after those brief months of torment and her time with Fleur, had turned back to its normal humdrum existence. Even though a small part of her missed the intimacy (but not the confusing emotions), she knew that she could not risk distractions. That was until the end of her Fifth year, when they had went to the Ministry of Magic, all because Harry had thought that his godfather, Sirius Black was being tormented by the Dark-Lord. Hermione knew it was a trap, she even voiced her opinion to the boys, but of course they never listened to her. In the end, they found out she was right, though at the expense of the lives of Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. Their deaths are the only thing she wished would have never happened in her years on this earth (that and the whole debacle with Dumbledore, of course). Those two were the closest people to actually be considered friends in the brunette's life. They knew how much she hated being around Harry and Ron but they never questioned the reason why she had still stuck around. She always assumed it was because they had felt as if their quest for the answer would only push her away from them and they did not wish that, no one else would really talk to them in the castle. Her grief for them was put on a slight hold when she first laid eyes on the raven-haired Death-Eater.

Hermione had seen the wanted posters tacked to any available spot in Diagon Alley. Instead of being fearful of the witch, she had been quite struck with her beauty. So when she had finally come face-to-face with Bellatrix Lestrange, it took everything within her power not to bow down and worship the Goddess made flesh in front of her. Her raven black curls contrasted exquisitely with her alabaster skin, her dark brown eyes that were alight with a fire of unknown origins made Hermione feel as if she could see directly into her soul and bring forth a life that the brunette had long forgotten. And her lips... as red and full as a rose at its height, made the young witch crave to touch them. When she found herself being held hostage by the very woman who was the temptress that tormented her soul, it had been as if spring had finally come upon her winter of discontent, melting the ice that she had placed around her very soul to keep anything from ever truly coming into her life. The feel of the older witch's full figure against her back made her go mad with the idea of wanting to feel a more skin on skin transaction between the two. The smells of lavender and vanilla that wafted from Bellatrix's frame clung to her nostrils, making her grow weak with lust and desire. What had almost made Hermione go over the edge, without so much as a sexual touch from the other woman, was when Bellatrix spoke into her ear softly. Her voice, which the younger witch describe at the time as the perfect bedroom voice; raspy, low and something that Hermione almost could mistaken for as desire, whispered into her ear, _'I wouldn't want to hurt a pretty girl like you Granger... just play nice and I won't hurt you.' _

Shaking her head, to clear the thoughts that had invaded her mind, Hermione prise her mind from the past and thinks on her future, _'How did I become so bloody lucky to have the one person I longed for have the same feelings as I do? I feel that at any moment, someone will swoop down and destroy this perfect setting that has become my life.' _The brunette muses to herself as she stares intently at the woman laying, gloriously naked, beside her.

"You know it is very creepy to wake up and find someone staring at you." Bellatrix says with a smirk on her face, though her eyes were still closed.

"Bella, you were awake this whole time?" Hermione asks as her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"No. I merely woke up a few minutes ago, when I felt as if someone needed my full attention." The older witch's smirk grew devilish as her hand that had been draped on Hermione's stomach moved lowered, meeting the brunette's hand at her apex. "Now, how should I feel to find that the woman I had spent the night with, doing what I considered the most spectacular sex of the century, is now attempting to satisfy herself without my aide? Should I lend her a helping hand?" The raven-haired woman starts to move her hand in time with Hermione's. "Or should I just leave out the room and let her finish what she had started?"

Bellatrix stops and starts to take her hand off the top of the brunette's, when Hermione stammers out a response. "I...I d-didn't realise what I was doing, Bella. I was thinking about when I first laid eyes on you and I guess I unconsciously started the actions that has caused my current state."

The older woman moves just enough to where she was now right on top of the brunette, smiling as she leaned down to capture the younger woman's lips in a kiss. "Well, I can understand that. The first time I met you I came home and had very dirty thoughts of you as well." She grinds her hips into the other witch's thigh, causing a moan to escape her lips. "I would imagine me topping you, doing exactly what I am doing now while kissing your breasts..." Bellatrix moves her lips southward, caressing every bit of skin she came in contact with. Once her mouth was near the targeted destination of her statement, Hermione had froze her own ministrations in anticipation. "Don't stop fingering yourself, love. You don't know what feeling you doing that is doing to me." The older woman growls as she grinds her hips harder into the younger woman's thigh.

Hermione continues pleasuring herself, her movements becoming more arduous as she tried to keep up with the undulations of the woman on top of her. Her vision started to swim in front of her as she felt herself reaching her climax, when she felt as if she could not hold out any longer she heard Bellatrix moan out her name causing her to teeter off the edge into the sweet surrender of bliss.

Laying on top of the younger witch Bellatrix slowly comes out of her stupor, kissing Hermione softly on the lips. "Do you know that you are the only person who has made me do something like that? Being able to get off like that by watching you get yourself off, that is. I always knew you were special, Hermione. I just didn't realise how special."

The brunette smirks lazily at the raven-haired woman, "Are you just saying that I am special just because I can do that to you or is there more to it?"

Bella rolls her eyes at her lover, "You know you mean so much more to me than that. Why would you think I got so upset when I thought of what it would be like if you left me? And that was even before we had sex!"

Hermione laughs, a real natural laugh something that she has not done in so long that she didn't realise it was actually her that laughed. "You are incorrigible!"

The raven-haired witch's eyes light up, "I know I am, that's why I do it." She glances at the clock on the mantel. "Merlin! I didn't realise it was nearly ten! Where did the morning go? I should have been at Cissy's by now!" Bellatrix jumps out of the king sized bed and walks towards the master bath. She stops when she reaches the rich mahogany door, turning to see Hermione stifle a yawn. "Did you sleep any last night?"

The younger witch stares down at the deep blood red satin sheets, "No... I was worried that I would go back to that other realm. I-I didn't want to leave from your side last night... so I just stayed awake thinking about everything that has happened in both sets of memories that I have or I would watch you sleep and wonder if this was all some sort of sick dream that he had created to torment me."

Bellatrix walks back to the bed and wraps her arms around the other woman, "Why didn't you wake me? If I had known you were awake the whole time and was as worried as you were I would have stayed up with you. You don't need to think about all those things by yourself, it's not healthy. I should know, there was a time that I was unsure about many things in my life and I worried myself sick thinking about it all. I don't want to see you do that to yourself."

"I know, but you looked so peaceful that I didn't want to disturb you." She kisses the older woman's raven locks. "And quite frankly, I don't want to have you worry about all these things that are running through my mind."

"Are you having any regrets about the decision you told me you made last night?" Bellatrix asks as she stares into brown eyes.

"No... none at all."


	10. In The End, It Is Mind Over Matter

_**Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long to get this posted. There was a lot of thought placed within this chapter (Also, the fact that I ended up having to stay two hours later than necessary at work on a project that someone else started and I had to finish, kept me from posting this a day earlier.) But, it is now ready for everyone's reading pleasure. This is actually the last chapter before the epilogue, I feel that the story has drawn to a close and the epilogue will give a lay out of the future for our lovely couple! I have a few more stories rolling around in my head, so don't fret! One story that I am currently working on is another Bellamione that is going to be a continuation of my two one-shots (Where Once was Light, Now Darkness Falls and To Forgive, Divine), it will be dark just like the one-shots. But, they always say there is a light at the end of the tunnel!**_

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Hermione finds herself unwilling to fall asleep, though it tries to prevail every step of the way, after Bellatrix left for Narcissa's. She had paced the raven-haired witch's bedchamber for over an hour, her gaze constantly drifting towards the bed which in turn caused her to become even more weary from lack of sleep. Deciding that her current situation was detrimental to her attempts to thwart the grasps of slumber, the brunette made her way to the library. Upon entering the library, Hermione realised that this location might not be better suited for her quest to conquer sleep. The deep, rich mahogany wood along with the black satin curtains caused a slumberous mood to settle over the young witch. Shaking her head to keep her eyelids from drifting close, Hermione walks over to the book laden shelves that covered all four walls of the room and peered through the titles. Though most of the titles were magical in origin, the witch found a few titles that she had often seen during her regular perusal of the local book shops near her parents' home in London.

_'I would have never thought to have found copies of Pride and Prejudice or Homer's Odyssey gracing the shelves in Black Manor.' _Hermione smirks at her own musing as she pulls The Odyssey off the shelf and walks over to the overly stuffed black leather sofa beside the fireplace.

Reading normally got her mind off anything that tried to take over. When she was to the point where she wanted to _Avada Kadavra _either Ron or Harry she would pull out _Hogwarts, A History._ Considering how ragged the hardback book looked after seven years and how she knew more about the castle than even the Bloody Baron, Hermione thought her method in satiating her urges was top notch. This time however, the studying of a book did nothing for her condition. Slowly the words unfocused in front of her and as much as she struggled the darkness behind her eyelids prevailed, causing her to finally fall asleep.

"Hermione... Hermione." Bellatrix whispers frantically whilst shaking the young witch awake. When the brunette's eyes fluttered open the raven-haired witch sighed in relief. "I have been trying to wake you up for the past five minutes. Y-you didn't slip into that other world did you?"

Hermione blinks a couple of times before furrowing her brow, trying to think back to while she slept. Her expression became one of surprise, "No... I don't remember anything. Well, I remember coming into the study to keep my mind off falling asleep. And then I remember that I started to read and then I seem to recall you calling me out from my slumber." She smiles as she looks into Bellatrix's eyes, then turns away with a frown. "What time is it?" She asks as she looks around, failing to see a clock anywhere about the room.

"It is six- thirty, why?" The older witch asks voice full of concern, something that had never actually been used to describe the woman before she had met Hermione.

"Merlin's beard! I was sleeping for five hours!" The brunette jumps up from the sofa she was lying on and paces the floor in front of the now dying embers of the fireplace. "I can't believe it... five hours? That possibly can't be. Maybe I was only asleep for a few moments. Yeah, that's it." Hermione mumbles to herself, never wavering in her step.

"Mind to clue me in on whatever the bloody hell you are going on about?" Bellatrix questions, crossing her arms in front of her and stares at the brunette.

"It's just odd that my mind didn't go to that nightmare of a place while I was sleeping... I didn't dream at all..."

"That's a good thing though, right?" Bellatrix states as she moves away from the sofa and walks towards Hermione. "Maybe, that means the curse is weakening." The raven-haired beauty places a comforting arm around the younger witch, trying to keep her from worrying so much.

"Or it means she has broke the curse without the aide of my magic." A male's voice hisses from the doorway of the library, causing the two women to jump. "Sorry to startle you two. I just couldn't stay silent any longer." Voldemort walks further into the room, aiming His wand at the now glowing embers in the fireplace causing them to turn back into the roaring fire they had been before. "You surprise me, Miss Granger. I knew your magic was strong, but I never knew how strong it actually was." He eyes the brunette intently.

"My Lord, how could I have broke the curse on my own now, when I have been dealing with it for so long?" Hermione asks, confusion written all over her face.

"You never had a reason to break it before." The Dark-Lord walks around the room until He reaches a high-back chair sitting in the corner of the room. Settling Himself into the chair that was in the shadows, He explains further. "Dumbledore always said that I never knew the most powerful magic of all. He was right... I, myself, never experienced it, but I knew of it. And knew how much it could effect a person. You see... you were able to break the curse because of your feelings for Bellatrix. You, like myself, had never felt true elation when being around someone you cared for. It was always your duty to watch out for others, and you hated it. Last night, I assume that is when you made your choice after going over the pros and cons like I asked of you, was when you came to the realisation of your true feelings for my second-in-command." Voldemort smiles at the witch's embarrassed look. "I bet that if you had fallen asleep last night you would not have been tormented with that other life either. It was that exact moment you realised that you loved Bellatrix, that the spell was broken. I guess that as deranged as that old fool was, he did know the power of love after all; even though, I imagine, he never experienced it himself."

Hermione opens her mouth to speak, but Voldemort raises a hand to stop her. "You are probably wondering why I told you that I knew of the counter-curse that would have lifted what Dumbledore did off you... Well, I do know the exact spell and was going to use it only if you could not come to terms with your emotions before I came back. The mind, Miss Granger, is the most powerful thing in this world. It can either lift you up to the most delectable of places or bring you down to the cesspit of the world. It seems that your mind has been made up and you have chose to stay with us instead of going back to the other realm. As I have said before, it was your love for Bellatrix that caused your decision, but I have a wonder... is there any other factor that led you to your choice?"

Hermione looks about the room for a few moments before she spoke, knowing that if He wanted to, The Dark-Lord, could use Legilimency to find out her other reasonings but He wanted her to tell Him aloud. "There is my feelings for Bellatrix, yes, but also I felt more alive now than what I could possibly feel in the other so-called world. I was always the one that had to do all the work and never receive any of the praise... As you said My Lord, I hated it. I hated everything about what happened in my past and knowing that the other realm housed the same sort of life for me, I knew I could not take it any longer. And also, in the other world, I never knew love or even camaraderie, and it pained me to even think that I could last a second longer dealing with that non-existence."

Voldemort stands back up, content with the younger witch's answer and turns to leave. Stopping at the door, he turns to face the two witches. "I am glad to hear that Hermione... I always knew that you were destined for more than what Dumbledore expected of you. I would often hear of the things that you were put through and knew that even I would never be that cruel to an exceptional muggle-born as you. Now, I have to go. There is much that we all need to do for the coming months. I expect to see both of you tomorrow for the start of the march on France." He turns back to the opened door and Dissapparates in the corridor.


	11. Epilogue

**_Author's note: Sorry... I had posted this and I realised that I _didn't give a bit of an explanation so I took it down and am now re-posting it. It was really difficult to write the epilogue for this story. I had so much running through my mind while I was writing it... I won't tell you guys how many times I had this chapter written and then deleted it, until I finally decided that my original idea was best for the ending. I hope none of you hate me for the ending! But I would love to know what you all think! I have already started writing another story I just haven't posted it yet, I am working out the mechanics of the dialogue in one of the chapters, that is why I have posted the prologue to it yet. Okay. Okay. On to the chapter!**

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**Half a year later...**

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"Hermione come back to bed." Bellatrix grumbles sleepily as she rolls over, towards the sound of footsteps pacing by the window.

"I will be right there Bella... just go back to sleep, my love." Hermione states softly, trying to will the nervousness out of her voice.

The raven-haired witch, noticing the waver in her young lover's voice, sits up in the bed. "What's the matter my dear? You know you can tell me anything."

The brunette stops her pacing and walks over to their bed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she reaches for Bellatrix's hands and holds them gently in hers. "It's nothing really... I'm just nervous."

"Well, that is obvious. I haven't seen you this bent out of shape since our Handfasting ceremony." Bellatrix smiles in attempts to break Hermione's sullen mood.

"It's... I just... Oh, for Merlin's sake! I'm just worried that everything is going to go to shit at any moment. That everything will come crashing down on the Dark-Lord's new empire and that somehow it will all be because of me." The younger witch cries out petulantly, hating the fact that her worries sounded ridiculous, even to her own ears.

"Hermione... You know that will not happen. The rest of the Order has been defeated, so nothing can destroy what all the Dark-Lord has accomplished. I promise you."

"But, Bella... I have this feeling that something is going to happen. I can't explain it... but I know it will happen soon." Hermione states as she stares off into the distance.

"Hermione..."

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"Hermione... Miss Granger..." A muted feminine voice speaks close to the brunette's ear, causing her to move around. "Doctor, I think she is waking up!"

The young witch's eyes flutter open then close because of the harsh fluorescent lighting above her. "Where's Bella?" She mutters softly.

"What did she just ask?" A male's voice questions from the foot of the bed.

"She asked, _'Where's Bella?' _I believe she is slightly confused." Hermione recognises the voice of the female as Professor McGonagall's. "Miss Granger, you have taken quite a hit on your head. You have been unconscious for seven days."

"Wha-..." Hermione exclaims while trying to sit up, but the pain from the sudden movement cuts her voice short.

"Don't try to sit up, Hermione." Minerva says softly.

"What happened?" Hermione asks weakly with tears in her eyes, heartbroken by the fact that it was all a dream.

"During the final battle, you were fighting Dolohov and a part of the second level caved-in. Some of the debris hit you in the head and knocked you unconscious. Luckily, Dolohov received the brunt of the debris and was killed automatically. I rushed you over to St. Mungo's as soon as I could break away from fighting off Yaxley and Nott." Minerva looks around the room, seemingly more on edge than she was before. "Now, Miss Granger, I think you would like to know that while you were lying in this hospital bed, you were mumbling to yourself every so often."

"I was?" Hermione tried to sound as nonchalant as possible on hearing that she was talking while she was unconscious, but inside she was worried about what she might have said while being unable to control her ramblings.

"Yes..." The Headmaster said curtly. "You said Bellatrix's name quite a lot while you slept. Were you having dreams about her tormenting you again?" Minerva asked as she stares at the younger witch with concern in her eyes.

"I must have been..." Hermione says quickly, relief courses through her body as she realises that she must have never said anything more than the raven-haired witch's name. "I really don't remember too much of it... but, that is the only reason I can think of." The brunette smiles as she sees the Headmaster nod her head in understanding.

"Well, I think I will let you rest again. I think that since you have decided to wake up, they will not keep you in here too much longer. I will talk to them and find out when you will be released." Minerva stands up from the chair she had been sitting in, "I will come back tomorrow and tell you what they have told me, but for now... I think you should rest."

"Okay, Professor." Hermione says as she watches the older witch walk out of the room and close the door. Once the door was closed and she was alone, Hermione let the tears fall down her cheeks as she thinks about how everything that she had seen and the love that she felt was nothing more than a dream. _'Maybe... just maybe, she survived and when I get out of this place, I will go find her. I will just have to find a way to get Minerva to tell if she survived... I have to know!' _Hermione thinks to herself as she sets up a plan to find the dark-haired mistress of her dreams.

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Minerva walks towards the doctor that had been inside the room that Hermione is in, the man sees the witch walking towards her and clears his throat. "Professor McGonagall, does she remember anything she said while she was unconscious?"

"No, she doesn't. She remembers nothing about her mutterings about the Dark-Lord or Bellatrix. I am worried that she will ask me if Bellatrix is still alive. And if I tell her yes, that she will try and look for her."

"Don't worry Minerva..." The doctor says with a smile. "There is always one sure-fire method to make sure she doesn't remember a thing."


End file.
